


Secret Mission

by phoenixnz



Series: The Chronicles of Martha and Jonathan [11]
Category: Smallville
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 21:02:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8260390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixnz/pseuds/phoenixnz
Summary: Jonathan and Clark are on a secret mission.





	

Jonathan left his wife sleeping and tip-toed quietly out of the bedroom, moving down the hall to his son’s room. He heard sounds coming from the room and opened the door, grinning as he realised his son was sitting up in bed, playing with the wooden tractor Jonathan had given him for Christmas. It was adorable the way Clark was making the sounds of the tractor engine.

Clark looked up.

“Hi Daddy,” he said.

Jonathan put a finger to his lips. “Shh,” he said. “Don’t wake Mommy.”

“Why?” Clark asked, raising his eyebrows. “Why Mommy sleepin’?”

Jonathan crept into the room and found a pair of jeans and a shirt for Clark.

“Remember?” Jonathan said. “You and I are going on a secret mission.”

Clark nodded, his green eyes dancing with excitement. He reached for his dad, raising his little arms.

“Let’s get you dressed, son. Then we’ll go brush your teeth.”

“Okay,” the boy replied.

It took ten minutes to get the boy ready, only because he tended to dawdle over brushing his teeth, making sure he got every tooth. Jonathan didn’t mind, however. Even after more than six months, he still found joy in those little things, knowing just how happy his wife was now that she had the one thing she had always wanted.

He still remembered what she had confessed to him the day they’d found Clark.

“I see a little face. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

If Jonathan had to be honest, it was all he’d ever wanted too. To be able to pass a legacy to his child, even if that child chose not to be a farmer. Given Clark’s unique abilities, Jonathan was sure whatever his destiny, it would be something great.

“Ready Clark?” he asked, taking his son’s hand.

Together, they made their way downstairs and out to the truck. It was a beautiful spring day. The sun was warm, but since it was still early, it hadn’t reached its peak as yet.

Jonathan lifted Clark into the cab, getting in beside him and starting the engine.

“How come Mommy don’t come?” Clark asked.

His speech was still a little stilted, but no more than any three-year-old, or almost three, Jonathan thought. He had about the same vocabulary as any child his age.

They still hadn’t thought about putting him in preschool. Martha was still reluctant to let Clark out of her sight and truth be told, Jonathan wasn’t sure Clark could keep the secret of his peculiar strength. Martha seemed happy enough teaching Clark to read, sitting in the rocking chair with him on her lap as she showed him his letters.

Jonathan smiled proudly. His little boy was the smartest, cutest little boy he’d ever seen. Okay, so he was biased, but how many other kids his age could already read and count? It wasn’t perfect, but he didn’t care.

As he drove, he explained to his son about this particular day and what it meant. Clark listened attentively, nodding as if he understood every word his dad was saying.

Jonathan thought about the past few months. Clark would sometimes come out when he was working and try to help. While Jonathan was careful not to allow the other workers on the farm to see Clark using his abilities, he didn’t mind when his son ‘helped’ by picking up hay bales. One day, he would teach Clark everything about being a farmer.

He smiled as he recalled one afternoon when he’d been out in the field, checking on the stock. It had been not long after the first snowfall. Clark had been fascinated with the snow, running around, picking it up with his bare hands. He was growing wetter by the second but didn’t seem to notice, having the time of his life.

Oh to see everything through a child’s eyes, Jonathan thought as he glanced down at his son. Clark viewed every new thing with a fascination that Jonathan envied. He often wondered what kind of world the little boy had come from and whether he had any memory of it. Just how old had he been when he had been sent away from everything he ever knew?

Jonathan assumed Clark had been very young as he couldn’t imagine the boy coming from any planet within their solar system.

He pulled up and parked the truck in a space beside the common, getting out and waiting for Clark to jump out. He looked around warily, not really expecting to see anyone he knew in Granville. He supposed he could have gone to the market in Smallville, but he had wanted to avoid running into Nell especially, who had been asking more questions than Jonathan could really answer about Clark.

“Come on, son,” he said, taking the little boy’s hand. Clark happily walked alongside him, singing a little song that was clearly his own interpretation of a popular song he must have heard on the radio as the words were garbled.

Jonathan spotted the stall he wanted and made a beeline for it, barely remembering to shorten his strides so his little boy could keep up. Just as he went to grab what he wanted, he heard a little boy’s voice.

“This one, Daddy,” he said.

Jonathan looked around and smiled tightly. Bill Ross was with his youngest son, Pete, who was just a few months older than Clark, at least by the age on Clark’s birth certificate. Jonathan still felt guilty for persuading Bill to sell the creamed corn plant to Lionel Luthor. Especially after the Metropolis business tycoon had made the not-so-subtle threat about Clark’s ‘adoption’.

“Hey, Jonathan,” Bill said.

The two little boys eyed each other warily.

“Pete, be nice,” Bill warned his son as the two boys continued to size each other up. “So,” he said, smiling up at Jonathan. “This is Clark.”

“Yep.”

“Cute little fella. How old is he?”

“He’ll be three next week,” Jonathan told him.

“That so?” Bill’s attention was caught by the chocolate-skinned boy, who was clearly trying to convince Clark to play with him. “Pete, you don’t have time to play. Your mom will be up soon.”

Jonathan grinned, noticing the package in Bill's hand. “Guess you forgot huh?”

Bill groaned. “Yeah. Seem to forget every year. Say, you hear what’s happened at the plant?”

Jonathan nodded. Lionel had closed down the plant, firing all the workers. While he wasn’t happy with the way the man had gone about it, he could understand on another level. The plant was run down and hadn’t been making a profit for years. Lionel had announced he was going to gut the plant and redevelop it into a fertiliser plant. It wasn’t a popular move and the way he had gone about it hadn’t won him any favours from the few remaining employees who still had families to feed. Smallville was a small town and unemployment was high.

“Well, we should get a move on,” Jonathan said.

Bill nodded. “Yeah, me too.” He took Pete’s hand and began walking away.

Clark was looking up at the contents of the stall.

“Which one, Clark?” Jonathan asked. His son pointed.

“That one, Daddy.”

“That one?” he echoed. Clark nodded his confirmation.

With a grin, Jonathan handed over the money.

Martha normally didn’t sleep late. She was usually up around the crack of dawn, getting some of the early chores done before breakfast. This morning, however, she realised she had overslept by a couple of hours.

She frowned, wondering why Jonathan hadn’t woken her, or why she had slept through the alarm. She rolled over, feeling the bed. Her husband had clearly been up for a while as his side of the bed was cool. She glanced at the alarm clock and realised it had been turned off.

That was strange.

She got up out of bed and put on a robe, walking down the hallway to her son’s room. The door was wide open and he was nowhere to be seen. His bed was made and his little tractor his father had made for him was sitting on the nightstand.

Where had those two rascals got to, she thought.

She was sure she had seen them whispering together in the barn a few days earlier, then Jonathan had taken Clark on some mysterious errand. They’d returned a couple of hours later with parts for the tractor, but Martha was sure they had picked up something else too. Clark had a mischievous expression and he looked as if he was about to blurt out something until his father had pulled him away.

She couldn’t help thinking over the past few months and how happy Jonathan was now that he had a son to spoil. Despite the bumpy beginning and the worry over Clark’s strange ability, Jonathan had embraced fatherhood completely, taking Clark out on the tractor. Martha remembered when Clark had seen his first snowfall. How fascinated he had been with the snow. He would have played in it for hours if she’d let him.

A normal child would be shivering from playing in the snow without a coat, but Clark didn’t seem to be cold at all, even when Jonathan had brought him indoors, his clothes wet through. It was just another thing that stood Clark apart from other children his age, but as far as Martha was concerned, it just made him more special to her.

She loved sitting in the rocking chair with him, reading to him and watching as he absorbed the story, learning new words. He talked as much as any other child now and she loved the way he chattered as if he’d always been talking. She especially loved hearing him call her ‘Mommy’. It was a word she had once despaired of ever hearing.

Martha made her way downstairs, frowning at the sounds coming from the kitchen. She heard Clark chattering and the clink of china. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee reached her. Jonathan was making breakfast, she assumed. She would usually cook breakfast, even on a Sunday, but since she’d slept late …

She entered the kitchen and stopped, her mouth opening in shock. Jonathan had not only made blueberry pancakes for breakfast - her favourite, but Clark was helping him, standing on a stool next to his father. The kitchen was a mess. Batter had been spilled, and the bag of flour had somehow split, leaving the powdery substance everywhere.

“Martha!”

“Mommy!”

“Hi sweetie,” Martha said, picking up her son. He had batter on his nose and a blueberry stain on his lips. “What’s all this?”

“Breakfast,” Jonathan replied.

“What’s the occasion?” she asked.

“You are,” he said.

She frowned at him, not comprehending. He put the plate he was holding on the counter and guided her into the dining room. There was a white vase in the middle of the table filled with red tulips. Again, her favourites. In front of her place at the table was a gaily wrapped gift and an envelope, just about the right size for a card.

“What’s this?” she asked.

Jonathan grinned at her. Clark gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“Happy Mommies Day, Mommy.”

“Oh my goodness!” she said, mentally checking the date. It was Mother’s Day! Her first Mother’s Day.

Jonathan picked up their son and plopped in his chair. Clark had a special pillow on the chair that let him sit at the table and be able to see over the top.

“Read the card, Mommy,” Clark told her.

Martha opened the card. It was just a normal Mother’s Day card, but inside was a message from her loving husband and Clark had even signed it himself. The lettering was clumsy and lopsided, but none of that mattered to her.

“So this is what you two have been up to,” she said.

“Yep,” Jonathan said, grinning mischievously. He leaned over and kissed her. “Nice to know I can still surprise you, sweetheart.”

“Oh you can. You definitely can,” she said, grinning at her small son.

She would have many more Mother’s Days in the future but this one … this one she would cherish forever.


End file.
